By The Docks
by Just A Random Pencil
Summary: Batman, meet me at the docks tonight at 9. We need to talk - Joker. P.S. - The coordinates are -.


I really loved the Lego Batman movie. It was an absolutely amazing movie, definitely my favorite Batman movie right next to the Nolan trilogy, and I'm glad I can add my two cents in to this fandom.

This story takes place sometime after the movie. Also, while in this fic, everyone is in their Lego form, you're free to imagine them however you want.

Lego Batman isn't mine and I don't make money off of this.

* * *

_Ding-dong!_

Alfred set down the feather duster and headed to the front doors of Wayne Manor, dress shoes clacking on the perfectly waxed floors.

Visitors were always a rare occurrence, mostly because Bruce Wayne practically never invited anyone over. The only constant arrivals were from the mail guy and the garbage disposal man, and they never had any reason to come knocking on the rich mahogany double doors.

The exceptions being that incident with the Joker's invasion not too long ago and Commissioner Gordon, but he knew it couldn't be her. She'd always knock rather than ring the doorbell, not to mention it was almost two and she had to be at work right now, thus ruling out the possibility.

The unexpected and unknown visitor rang the doorbell again, and the butler walked a little bit faster.

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

Alfred picked up the pace. _Surely_, he reasoned, _whoever it was must have a good reason to be here. Otherwise, he or she would've left by now._

This thought was confirmed not too long later after a brief pause, the visitor started pushing the button non-stop.

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!_

Alfred practically broke out in a sprint to reach the doors. The incessant ringing abruptly cut off as he hastily unlocked and pulled one door open. He paused briefly when he saw who it was. Any other person would have screamed and begged for help. But this was Alfred Pennyworth, and he didn't even bat an eye at the sight of none other than the Joker at the doorstep.

"Yes, may I help you?" He drawled in that bored yet sophisticated way that every butler worth his salt seemed to have.

It was apparent that the clown prince of crime looked somewhat disappointed, as if he'd been expecting to see someone else, before he smiled. "Hi, is Batman home right now?"

Alfred didn't fail to notice how he was trying to look over his shoulder. "Yes."

A thick silence fell upon them. The Joker adjusted his purple suit while Alfred stared impassively. When the former realized the butler was not going to say anything else, he cleared his throat.

"...Can I talk to him?"

"One moment please." Alfred slammed the door closed.

Joker took a deep breath and pushed back his green hair with both hands. "Well that was awkward. Now, I just got to be cool. Soon as Batman comes out that door, I'll look him straight in the eye and say..." He trailed off and grimaced.

_Then again, 2 P.M. is such a weird hour. I don't want to give Batman the wrong impression or anything. Besides, I'm not even wearing my best suit._ He thought as he reached inside his coat.

Meanwhile, Alfred rapped on Bruce Wayne's door. "Master Bruce? The Joker is at the door and wishes to speak with you."

"What!?" SMACK! Evidently the caped crusader had fallen out of bed. Then there was rapid footsteps getting louder and closer by the second before he flung open the door, hair unruly and his cowl in hand.

"He's here, _now_?" He looked down at himself, realizing he was in his sleeping robe.

"Would you like me to ask him to wait while you get dressed?" Alfred suggested.

"No time for that! I have to stop him before he does something!" He ran past the butler and yanked his cowl over his head.

He glided across the smooth, glossy floor and leaped over the stairs, executing a flawless superhero landing that undeniably made him look awesome like always. He raced over to the doors and threw them open, eyes narrowed and poised to attack in an epic battle stance. "_Joker!_"

But there was no one there. He checked on all sides, but the clown was long gone. The rustle of paper made him glance down and spot a seemingly innocuous looking card left on the doorstep.

* * *

Police cars, fire-trucks and SWAT were parked all over Wayne Manor. It was the whole works. There was even a pair of helicopters with swaying searchlights for good measure. People rushing, expensive equipment with blinking lights and too many buttons, even a couple of police dogs sniffing around the area. At the front of the mansion, Commissioner Gordon was talking with Batman when Sergeant Jackson approached and handed her a manila folder.

"Results are back. It's clean." He informed as she opened the folder and looked over the report.

But Batman, still in his sleeping robe, merely said. "Run the test again."

Everyone, even the dogs, groaned in unison. They'd been checking Joker's card for hours now, testing it for anything harmful, but to no avail. Batman was convinced that there had to be something wrong with the card, to the point he refused to take his eyes off it for a second. It was like he believed his constant vigilant gaze was the only thing keeping it from exploding.

Barbara slammed the folder shut in one clean _snap_. "Batman, there's nothing wrong with it. It's _clean_. I'm not going to run the test again, so either you can open it or I will."

"…alright, I'll do it." The vigilante relented.

"Thank you. Bring it in." She ordered. Jackson gave a sharp salute and complied, getting the card from one of the analysts.

Just as Batman was going to take it, he paused. "You're completely sure right?"

"It's just a homemade card with too much glitter." Barbara assured with a strained smile. Her patience was just about at its end, and she could already feel the vein in her forehead start to throb with the stress.

"Could be evil glitter. Bet you didn't test for that." Batman grumbled under his breath, but nonetheless he took the card and opened it much to everyone's relief. His eyes went wide under the cowl.

"What does it say?" Barbara leaned in to see the contents of the card for herself, but Batman closed it as he took a step forward and stared off into the distant horizon.

"Joker wants me to meet him at the docks tonight." He finally said. "Alone. To talk."

"So that's where it'll be..." She murmured.

The caped crusader turned around. "Wait a minute, you knew about this? Also, why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew that Joker wants to talk to you because he's been leaving clues for over a month, but we didn't know where he planned to meet until now." The commissioner clarified, before frowning. "I _did_ tell you, don't you remember?"

"Uh…" He thought back, trying to conjure up the memory of when this apparently happened, but came up blank.

Barbara groaned and ran a hand down her face. "You don't remember the plan, do you?"

"What plan?"

She took a long, even breath. "Alright. Joker wouldn't just tell you where he'll be without something up his sleeves, like a bomb or hostages or something. You need to find out what's his ace card."

Batman gave her a deadpan look, to which she shrugged. "What? It was a good analogy!"

"Yeah no, don't ever do that again." He said.

She sighed. "Anyways, the police will be posted throughout Gotham. We'll install a microphone in your suit so that we can listen to the conversation. As soon as Joker tells you what he's actually planning, we'll be able to respond immediately. Then all you have to do is catch him so I can arrest him."

"Sounds like I'll be doing most of the work." The vigilante pointed out.

"Pretty much."

"Alright." He nodded. "Let's do this."

"What about me?" The sound of a vinyl disc scratch made Batman and Barbara, as well as everyone else stop and look at the source of the sound. Robin pulled his hand back from the random phonograph on a table that he had barely even touched and sheepishly smiled.

_Huh. So that's where the awesome background music came from…_ Batman absently noted, assuming one of Barbara's people must have brought it over to set the whole intensely dramatic mood. "Hey, kid, when'd you get here?"

"I live here."

"Right. Well, you get the most important job."

"Really?" Robin gasped, his eyes getting much bigger than was naturally possible in sheer excitement.

"Yeah, I need you to…" Batman looked around, trying to find an answer in his surroundings. It had to be something that wouldn't actually influence the operation. As good as the kid was, this called for more covert infiltration and less Gym-Kata. Then he saw it. "…guard the lamp post! I need you to stay over there, and protect it at all costs, understand?"

"Yes padre, I won't let you down!" With a happy salute, Robin rushed over to the post and started to march around it diligently for a few moments before pausing. "Wait, what if I have to go to the bathroom?"

* * *

Rolling waves of black water crashed against the edge of the docks. Batman could almost taste the salt in the air from the seawater as he navigated through the dark. It was easy to get lost in a spot like this with its maze of warehouses and shipping containers. The flickering dim lights made the shadows dance, and he couldn't help but shoot shifty glances around him. He expected to be ambushed by Joker's goons, but so far nothing.

The place looked deserted tonight, but Batman wasn't lowering his guard.

"Why am I doing this?" He sighed.

"Because we're trying to catch the Joker and these are the coordinates-" Barbara replied through the ear-piece tucked inside his cowl.

"I get that." He cut her off before she recited the whole plan. "But why do I have to walk? Can't I use the Batmobile?"

"No. You need to look non-threatening and approachable to encourage the Joker to talk, criteria the Batmobile doesn't meet." She said.

"It would've looked awesome." Batman countered. Crashing in with the Batmobile with rock blasting from the speakers would have also looked more like he was encountering an enemy and less like he was going to meet up with a friend. Which he was _not_. Just to set things clear.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Barbara said. "Just stick to the plan. I'll be right here to help you if you need it."

"Got it. I'm almost there." The vigilante warned, nearly breaking free from the twisted labyrinth to where Joker was supposed to be.

"Understood. Good luck Batman." And then there was silence.

The coordinates led to a warehouse. Batman cautiously stepped inside, vigilant of any booby-traps or spontaneously appearing henchmen.

It wasn't hard to locate the Joker. He was sitting on one of three crates, the larger of which had a candle in the center and two steaming mugs.

_You have got to be kidding me._ Batman thought with an internal groan.

"Batman!"

Joker's eyes lit up with joy as he spotted him and eagerly waved him over. "So glad you could make it! Please, have a seat." He gestured to the other small crate across from him.

Batman looked at the crate, then at the Joker, eyes narrowed with distrust. But he had a plan to follow.

"Fine." He slowly approached the crate, feet dragging. Each one of his nine shredded abs were rock hard with the sheer tension and he was struggling to hold back the urge to punch Joker in the face.

Batman thought that he'd gotten over his biggest challenge when Joker released all the Phantom Zone villains. He learned to accept more people into his life. To work together as a team, as a family. Even do feelings that weren't pure rage.

But tonight he realized that the second biggest challenge he had ever faced in nearly 80 years was to have the Joker less than three feet away and not do anything about it. Not anything violent to be more specific, with Batarangs and punches and smoke bombs.

He unceremoniously plopped down on the crate. The Joker's semi-permanent grin grew wider. "I hope you like the spot. I know you're into darkness, so I figured why not hang here in a creepy old warehouse?"

"Say something nice!_"_ Barbara quietly hissed in his ear, nearly making him jump before remembering that she was listening to everything.

"Oh. That's very..." Batman tried to think of something that wasn't an insult. "...thoughtful." Good enough. "Of you." He added quickly.

The words came out choked and stilted, and he could almost hear Barbara slap her forehead in disbelief at how forced and unnatural that sounded.

"You really think so?"

"Uh huh."

"Wow, thanks!" Joker was so caught up in joy that he didn't notice the vigilante looked two seconds away from hurling.

"Yeah. Don't mention it." Batman choked out, the soft candlelight concealing his green face. The sickeningly sweet smell wafting from the mugs was not helping with his nausea.

"Here, I made you some coffee." The clown pushed a mug over to him. Batman peered in, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He could see nothing but frothy cream foam, with what seemed like chocolate or cinnamon powder sprinkled in the shape of a smiley face.

"I like it black." That, and it could very well be poisoned. Just because he had to be nice didn't mean he was going to be stupid.

"Oh, ok…" Joker sort of wilted for lack of a better word, and in that moment, Batman felt the same gut-wrenching thing he had felt when he apologized to Alfred and Barbara and Dick for pushing them away. He felt _sorry_ for the Joker, which was all kinds of wrong.

It only lasted a second before the Joker suddenly bounced back to his usual self. "Brutal honesty, that's good! We're making progress."

Batman didn't really know what that was supposed to mean, or if he even wanted to find out.

"You're doing great_." _Barbara said_. "_Just keep him talking_."_

"_So_." He cleared his throat, deciding to cut to the chase. "What did you want to talk about?"

"About us."

"Us?" With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Batman knew he wasn't going to enjoy this conversation one bit.

Good thing Barbara had his back.

* * *

At a distance from where the conversation was taking place, Barbara and her team were waiting in the shadows. With the Joker pinned between the ocean and their police cars lined up in a solid blockade outside the docks, she felt confident that the Joker wasn't getting away this time. With the one-eared headphones allowing her to hear the conversation inside, as Batman didn't feel comfortable with the idea of the whole police force listening, she turned to face the team crouched behind their cars that were ready to take action on her signal.

Covering the microphone part to keep Batman from hearing and getting distracted, she whispered. "Remember, this is a delicate operation. It's why I personally picked each and every one of you. You've proven to be the best of the force and-"

There was a strange scraping sound that made Barbara stop talking and notice the dark outline of a person coming towards them, dragging something on the pavement. Everyone whirled around, some going for the guns in their holster, but she stopped them with a firm head-shake.

Keeping her eyes on the unknown individual, Barbara carefully took off her headphones and reached behind her to open the car door and slip the headphones inside. The plan depended on Batman remaining focused on making the Joker talk. No matter what happened out here.

She held out a hand. "Halt! Who goes there?"

No response. The distance between them grew shorter. She whipped out her standard issue non-lethal gun and aimed. A perfect shot, but she didn't intend to pull the trigger. Gunfire would only alert the Joker and jeopardize the operation.

"This is Commissioner Gordon, and I'm ordering you to halt and identify yourself!"

Finally, the person stopped and lifted the large thing aimed right towards them. Barbara's eyes widened, but it was too late as a... giant colorful arrow was twirled by a smiling blonde girl?

"50% off special at the donut shop on the other side of Gotham!" She cheerfully announced, waving the sign in the aforementioned direction.

"_Donuts_!" Everyone seemingly teleported in their cars that had magically turned on in a blink of an eye.

"No wait, guys, we've talked about this! Remember your training! Come back!" Barbara ordered to no avail. Her team peeled off so fast they left perfect dust outlines of themselves behind. On a side note, the strange donut employee was gone too, but that wasn't important right now.

Tucking her gun away, she picked up her walkie-talkie from her belt. "Attention, I need back-up from any near-by officer here immediately!"

Rather than cops chiming in with their acknowledgement of the situation and an ETA, there was just silence. The commissioner tried again, but got the same results.

It was in that moment that she knew something must have gone wrong.

_Remain calm and analyze the facts._ She told herself. The whole police force wasn't answering the walkie-talkie, and until proven otherwise, she had to assume she was currently the only available officer in Gotham. Additionally, she knew where her team had gone and it was smart to get them back before they overstuffed on donuts again.

But there was the small detail of the operation to detain the Joker. It was a known fact that whenever the police knew where he was, it was because he was in the middle of a crime. The truth was that when Joker didn't want to be seen, he could vanish in a colorful puff of smoke and stay that way until his next plan to take over Gotham.

This was a rare occasion where they had his fixed location and he wasn't doing anything illegal, other than trespassing on abandoned property.

If this operation got compromised, they'd have to wait until the Joker struck again. Barbara knew without a doubt that the next time, there was going to be more property damage, more paperwork to handle, and civilians at risk. She was not willing to put civilians in potential harm, not when this could still work.

It was just a matter of recovering her team and the apparently missing police force, without Batman finding out. As long as he sticked to the plan, everything could still turn out at the end.

With that, she got inside her car and grabbed the headphones on the passenger seat to stuff them in the glove box. Turning on the engine, Barbara slowly retreated from the docks until hitting the road. With a firm grip on the steering wheel, she activated the police lights and slammed her foot on the gas pedal.

_15 minutes, tops. Surely nothing will blow up by the time I get back._

* * *

Joker pulled out a thick book. "Lately, I've been reading _How to Make Your Relationship a Two-Way Street_, by Dr. Bartholomew Wolper." That name felt oddly familiar, but Batman couldn't place where or when he'd seen it before. "There's this exercise, called 'Say What You Feel'. You start with 'I feel' and then you say what you feel. Why don't you try?"

Batman barely held the urge to sigh. "I feel...that…"

"Yes?" The clown eagerly asked, eyes wide. It was like he was waiting for something extraordinary. And then…

"This is stupid." He didn't mean to say that, but it just came out suddenly before he could stop it.

He thought Barbara would reprimand him, there was nothing but silence from her end.

"We don't use hurt words. Try again. Oh and don't worry, this a safe zone. Trust me, no one is going to interrupt us while we talk about our feelings." While in reality Joker meant to reassure Batman, all that did was put him more on edge.

_Joker's really thought of everything! _Batman thought, itching to whip out a Batarang and throw it at Joker's face_. He's sealed off my exits and has me trapped against the water. Who knows what else he's got!_

"I feel this is a waste of time." Again, he couldn't stop himself from saying that.

Luckily, the Joker didn't seem upset over his lack of cooperation. "Hmm, I don't think you're getting how this exercise works. Here, I'll try. I feel like you've been ignoring me because you didn't answer the last few messages I've left you."

"What messages?"

"For starters, that bank robbery from a month ago." He said. "I left you a joker card in the vault, with a message that said 'Batman, we need to talk'."

"Must've missed it." Though to be honest, Batman barely even remembered the bank robbery itself. With so many crimes and evil plots to stop in Gotham, it was hard trying to keep track of them all.

"Ok, how about 2 weeks ago, when I left another message in a dummy of you when I robbed a jewelry store?" Joker asked.

"Must've gotten picked up by PD." Batman said.

"Does last night's art museum heist ring any bells?" The clown tried again. "I left the message painted right outside the museum."

"Wait, hold on…"

_Flashback…_

Sheets of icy rain poured down in the city of Gotham. The storm had been unexpected, occurring right after the art museum robbery occurred. Yellow police tape surrounded the building, almost being ripped off by the winds. Everyone was soaked and racing to collect evidence before it got washed away. No one really noticed Batman going off on his own to explore the crime scene. He was following a lead – literally.

There was a trail of tiny droplets of bright green paint leading to the back of the museum, where it abruptly ended. He knelt down by the last paint splatter, super-mind hard at work to trying to solve this strange event. If anyone could figure out who was responsible for this, it'd be him, the World's Greatest Detective. The paint was dry, suggesting it was spilled before the storm. Before the robbery.

While he mulled over whether the paint could somehow be related to the crime, a split second flash of lightning revealed a giant mural painted on the wall behind him.

_Present…_

"Nope. Never saw that. Must've been washed off by the rain. But if you wanted to meet up so badly, why didn't you just tell me?" Batman asked.

"Because I didn't think of that until this morning." He admitted.

"So that's why you came to my-I mean, Bruce Wayne's house right?"

Joker nodded, apparently not noticing Batman's blunder. "And the rest is history. The important thing is that you're here now."

"Yup. Ready to talk about…us." Just saying the word left a sour taste in his mouth. "And get it off our chests before it _blows up_ in our faces."

Batman stared Joker dead in the eye, checking for any signs that those two specific words could have triggered something. Like a chuckle from knowing something Batman didn't, or a too smug reply of 'Sure wouldn't want _that_ to happen.'

"Exactly!" Joker exclaimed, and Batman could've been fooled if he didn't know any better. The clown took a long sip from his mug. "Look, I've been thinking. Now that we've publicly announced our relationship, I feel that if we're going to make us work, we should start over."

Batman's eyes slowly narrowed to a squint, before he blinked. "I'm sorry, you want to what?"

"Start over." He repeated with even more enthusiasm. "I believe we got off on the wrong foot with the whole you not admitting me as your greatest enemy issue. The only way to begin this new chapter in our lives is to wipe the slate clean."

"You expect me to just forget everything you've done over the past 80 years? What about the time with the two boats?" The caped crusader asked.

Joker snickered. "Yeah, that was a pretty good one if I do say so myself..."

"People could've died." Batman stated, not finding it funny at all.

"But they didn't." He wagged a finger.

The caped crusader was ready to snap back with another rebuttal that proved he was totally right about everything, but found himself at loss for words. That, and the ear piece digging almost painfully into the side of his head reminded him that he had to _not _argue with the Joker for the sake of the plan. He was _really_ starting to hate that plan.

"That's not the point." He finally said. "Besides, didn't we already start over when we pulled Gotham back together?"

"In a way, yes, but this, right now," Joker gestured to the two of them in a circling motion, "is where our relationship can kick off in the right direction. That is, if we're both willing to set aside the past and start from the point you told me 'I hate you'."

"So, what do you say, to a new beginning, this time as true enemies that absolutely hate each other?" He outstretched a hand. Batman scrutinized it for a moment, looking for a buzzer or some other nasty trick, but found nothing.

"Yeah, to a new beginning." He took Joker's hand. They shook hands. Then the Joker leaned in and whispered. "By the way, I put super glue in your seat and I've rigged the docks to blow up in two minutes."

BAM!

Chunks of debris rained down as part of the roof was blown off. Batman coughed at the chalky dust and tried to reach for his grappling hook, but the glue had long since dried and he couldn't reach it. He couldn't move anything other than his head and arms.

By the time the air cleared, the Joker was floating away on his balloon pack through the new skylight in the warehouse. All Batman could do was watch him get away and yell at the top of his lungs.

"_JOKER!_"

Joker threw his head back and laughed. "We should really do this again sometime!"

* * *

Even the unknowing spectator would be able to notice the sheer tension in the line of police cars heading back to the docks. The leading cruiser was practically grinding the pavement under the tires, and those behind lagged at a distance. The second car in the line was almost being tailgated by the others, shoved to be in between them and the fuming car. It was very clear that none of the other cars wanted to be behind the first one.

"Of all the times to slack off for donuts, you all just had to do it right now. You're all losing your breakroom privileges for a month." She ignored the symphony of groans coming from the walkie-talkie. "Now, let's finish this operation successfully. Commissioner Gordon out."

The docks were within sights. Barbara let out a small sigh of relief. "At least Batman did his part and nothing blew up."

Suddenly it all went up in flames. She slammed on the brakes, as did the cars behind her. Luckily, everyone was safely at a far enough distance from the explosion. Except it wasn't an explosion. The commissioner killed the engine and got out of the car. The night was lit up in a colorful show of crackling fireworks, but what got her attention were the simple but unmistakable faces of the Joker and Batman beneath the message displayed across the sky for all of Gotham to see.

GREATEST ENEMIES FOREVER!

"Commissioner Gordon, what are your orders?" O-Hara asked.

Barbara just stared as the fireworks faded away and the stars were choked out by the thick smoke as parts of the docks had caught on fire. She honestly didn't see this coming. She assumed that the Joker meant to distract Batman while striking somewhere else in the city, and never suspected that the docks could be where the clown prince of crime revealed his true plan.

"Commissioner?" O-Hara tried again.

"I want the fire department here now!" She ordered. "And someone find Batman. We need to talk."

"Yes ma'am!" It was clear that everyone was trying to make up for their earlier donut escapade by acting super competent and rushing to fulfill her commands.

There was no doubt in her mind that Batman was okay. A couple of measly fireworks were not going to take down Gotham's vigilante.

"We found him! Right this way Commissioner." Sergeant Jackson led her to one of the cruisers. Batman was sitting in the backseat with the door open and his legs dangling out the side of the car. He had a wooly blanket around his shoulders, a hot cup of cocoa in one hand, and a crate with his pants stuck on them in the other. Barbara decided not to comment about that part.

"Are you alright Batman?"

"I'm fine." His scowling face, however, said a completely different story.

"The Joker escaped didn't he?" It was hardly a question, because Batman wouldn't be in such a foul mood if the Joker had been apprehended.

"Yes." He growled and took a sip. "Can I go home now?"

Under normal circumstances, a more extensive interview had to take place to get the full account of the events. All the details had to be recorded, and a formal report written up. It was all part of protocol and standard procedures. But the fact was that the operation was a complete failure and there was not much else to it.

"Yes, yes you can. Thanks for helping."

Batman simply grunted and downed the rest of the drink in a few big gulps. He pulled out his grappling hook and tossed the paper cup aside, but it was grabbed by a cop before it hit the ground. It was after all, evidence.

There was a sharp _whoosh_ and Batman was gone.

The fire grew, and her team was running back and forth lugging ocean water with whatever they could carry it with – discarded containers, even their hands – in an attempt to combat the steadily growing flames. She cracked a small smile at their efforts and thought, _maybe I'll cut down their breakroom privilege ban to 3 weeks._

It was very late at night when Alfred finished dusting the piano at the front of the fireplace. It took him a few moments before it dawned on him that he didn't have anything else to do.

Everything in Wayne Manor, down to the last piece of polished silverware, was clean and in order and placed in its rightful spot. Alfred had, dare he say it, _free_ time. The thought was as shocking as it was exciting. This was a rare chance where he was home alone with nothing on his agenda. He could do whatever he wanted for once without a worry.

Alfred was so engrossed in all the possible things he could do he didn't notice the fireplace turning to reveal the secret Batcave entrance, nor Batman coming in. Not until Batman stepped in, spotted the old butler and said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I...didn't say anything."

"Good. Because I _don't_ want to talk about it." Batman repeated.

The butler simply gave an _mmm-hmm_.

Batman opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something else, but ultimately decided to remain silent. He left to his room while dragged a crate, which Alfred noticed had his suit pants glued on. It made an awful nails-on-chalkboard sound and left long, ugly marks right across the floor Alfred had just waxed that morning. He could do nothing but watch as hours of hard work were wasted, his plans for a relaxing glass of Pinot Grigio postponed until further notice.

_Oh well_, Alfred thought, _it was nice while it lasted._

Yet as the butler went to find the floor wax, there was a persisting feeling at the back of his head, like he was forgetting something...

* * *

Outside Wayne Manor, under one of the lamp posts, Robin was bouncing up and down.

"Guys? Can somebody come take my spot? I need to go to the bathroom."

Silence. He heard crickets.

"Guys?"

* * *

Dr. Bartholomew Wolper was the author of the 10th edition of _Setting Limits For Your Out Of Control Child_. At least I think that's his name, it was very hard to make out the letters. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed that. As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
